


i don't love you (but i always will)

by Ingu



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Assassination Attempt(s), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Relationship(s), Post Uprising, Post-Break Up, Pre-Fall of Overwatch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-23 18:50:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11408427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ingu/pseuds/Ingu
Summary: Something a younger Jack Morrison never fathomed when he first signed on for the job of Overwatch Commander, was the sheer volume of death threats he would come to receive each week.  But for fifteen years, nothing truly got close to ending his life. And fifteen years was enough to desensitize anyone to the possibility of meeting a sudden and violent end, until it was something you no longer saw coming.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I made the mistake of buying Overwatch last month and, well, the rest was history. I still can't believe that out of 2.5k fics tagged reaper76 no one seems to have written about someone trying to kill Famous Public Figure Jack Morrison yet, so here is my attempt to fix the issue with some self-indulgent H/C in its purest form. 
> 
> Trying to place characterisation for these two was interesting, and I’ve tried for a Jack who is clouded but still mostly sunshine and your standard Gabe the grouch, let me know if it works for you. Also, the piece is unbetaed, so please feel free to let me know of any errors you find. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Edit (Apr 2018): A heads up to anyone finding this fic now, a lot of the canon assumptions in this story has been Jossed with the revelations from the latest (and probably future) event(s). So some of the details wont line up with what we now know. Just think of it as an AU. ;)

Something a younger Jack Morrison never fathomed when he first signed on for the job of Overwatch Commander, was the sheer volume of death threats he would come to receive each week.

The first dozen had been disconcerting, as were the lurid sexual fantasies someone in Colorado, Brazil, Sweden, Vietnam, had taken the time to write out with pen and ink. But in time they became just another thing to be managed like budgets or risk profiles. As the UN pushed him to the spotlight time and time again, the mail he received evolved from stacks to folders to entire boxes. New staff took over and then they became numbers on a spreadsheet and eventually someone else’s full-time job. 837 death threats this week due to the failure of the Qatar mission. 2130 threats over his recent speech supporting omnic integration. It took only months for the man in charge of maintaining world security to gain his own security detail.

Gabe had laughed and laughed when he found out that Jack had hired people purely to open and catalogue his mail. And Jack didn’t dare to tell him when intelligence analysts responsible for assessing the viability of the threats Jack received daily were added to their payroll. The booby-trapped gifts and captured trespassers were just minor notes on each week’s security report, reserved for the Commander’s eyes only. The constant specter of death that hung over the head of a social-political figure wasn’t something you talked about in polite conversation.

It would be a depressing thing to bring up, after all. _“Hey, Gabe, guess what? There were three foiled attempts to kill me this week. That’s a little bit more than usual.”_

Jack could imagine Gabe’s response. _“Yeah? Well I almost get shot at least a dozen times on each mission, you don’t see me complaining, do ya?”_

It was better for everyone if Jack just acknowledged there was a danger and got on with his life. At the end of the day, ‘maybe I won’t live to see tomorrow’ was just another fact of life for Commander Jack Morrison, alongside the terrible cafeteria coffee and the small mountain of urgent messages he had to deal with each morning. On his worst days, the thought was a source of comfort.

The press can’t harass him if he’s dead. The nightmares will stop if he’s dead. He can’t disappoint Gabe again if he’s dead.

But for fifteen years, nothing truly got close to ending his life. And fifteen years was enough to desensitize anyone to the possibility of meeting a sudden and violent end, until it was something you no longer saw coming.

 

-

 

The day hadn’t started particularly well, and if it wasn’t the way Jack’s days usually went nowadays, he may have taken it as a warning. Two minor emergencies had needed his attention before it was even 7 a.m., and by the time he’d cleared up the circumstances around the lab explosion and mobilized a team for the situation in Argentina, it was past 11 and he was late for two different meetings. Both were with people Overwatch couldn’t afford to piss off if they still wanted UN funding in the next financial year.

In other words, it was business as usual.

At 1512 hours Jack was sitting in front of his computer, shoveling a hastily bought lunch of jumbo fried rice into his mouth as he scrolled through the oldest of a backlog of reports. The food was already cold, because he had been naively optimistic and asked for it before he went into the second meeting, thinking it would take ten minutes at most. In the end it had taken near an hour, but he ate the food anyway. These days, when just making time for meals was a challenge when it wasn’t to appease some journalist or politician, Jack was a beggar and not a chooser. Besides, his mother had taught him better than to waste perfectly good food.

The report that held Jack’s attention came courtesy of one Gabriel Reyes, Blackwatch Commander, and summarized the events of a mission that had happened a little over three weeks ago. Jack had vague memories of authorizing the operation, somewhere in between an early-morning tele-conference with the Australian prime minister and an interview with an Atlas pundit discussing the latest allegations against his agents. Gabe had presented a strong case for taking out the remnants of Null Sector, who were licking their wounds in Scotland after a series of Overwatch strikes against their bases. The mission had been focused on capture and clean-up, with the hope of delivering at least a few figures to the UK government for trial. As long as they played it right and gave credit to the Prime Minister, they could earn back the goodwill Jack had lost when he gave the King’s Row team their go-ahead. It had ended in success, if Jack recalled correctly, and now all that was left was for him to acknowledge Gabe's final report on the matter.

Jack read one sentence, and then read it again, trying to figure out what the hell Gabe meant with “captured delivered man omnic mobilization”. The report was illogical and indecipherable, and a quick review of the archives provided that it was the Commander’s latest and final submission.

Jack sighed and put down his spoon, his appetite abruptly gone when he remembered the forty-seven remaining reports he still had waiting. He weighed his options as he scrolled up and down the document. He could move onto the next file and just send Gabe a message asking him to resubmit, or…

“Athena, is Commander Reyes in the building right now?”

“Commander Reyes is currently inside his office, sir.” The AI’s voice sounded coolly over the speakers.

“Think he’d be open to visitors?” Jack asked even as he rose from his desk, his mind made up. After long hours spent sitting today he could use the walk down to Blackwatch’s sector. No matter how hostile Gabe may decide to be, it would still be nice to see him, and hear his voice unfiltered by speakers for once. God, how long has it been since they last spoke face-to-face? Two months? Three?

“As Commander of Overwatch, you have full authority to visit any and all personnel during work hours, sir.”

“Right.” Jack winced, sharply reminded of the power dynamic he had tried too hard to ignore over the years. He pulled on his coat and picked up his datapad, blinking to clear his suddenly blurry vision. It was a miracle his eyesight had held together after so many years of squinting at holoscreens, or perhaps it was just the advanced medical science that made him a super-soldier.

Exhaustion washed through him like a wave, and Jack took a deep breath, bolstering himself against the headache gathering behind his eyes.

He really needed sleep.

 

-

 

The walk down to Gabe’s office only took a few minutes at most, even in a building as large as the Swiss HQ, but today it seemed especially long. Jack felt a little out of breath when he knocked on Gabe’s door. But a racing heart could be chalked up to mere anxiety. Lately, just seeing Gabe’s name pop up on his comms was enough to set it off. His body keenly remembered all the times when answering hadn’t ended well.

Jack held his breath as he heard someone moving inside the office, and then, the door opened with a swoosh, permitting entrance.

The room was dark, the blinds pulled shut to block out the glare of the afternoon sun. Gabe, bent over a glowing blue terrain map, looked up as Jack entered the room. The screen on the wall was lit up with target photos and intelligence extracts, painting an image of planning in progress.

Gabe didn’t look happy to see him, though he didn’t look particularly upset by his presence either. Jack took it as a win.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Jack said as he approached, glancing over Gabe’s spread. Unit markers and abandoned coffee mugs scattered the table’s surface. The terrain map showed some sort of mountainous area, the location ID obscured by the shotgun resting above it. Jack tried to remember if they had anything in the works that fitted this terrain, but nothing came to mind.

“Not if we get this over with quickly.” Gabe straightened, arms rising to fold in front of his chest.

Jack swallowed a sigh, mentally adjusting his expectations for the upcoming conversation. _At least Gabe looks good,_ he thought as his gaze flickered over the man, who stood in his usual black outfit, no visible injuries or maladies, just muscle and flesh and frustrating good looks. Yearning hit him, sudden and overwhelming, as he remembered the feel of Gabe’s skin, warm beneath his fingertips. It was a remnant of a different life, long since departed.

“I need to talk to you about your Scotland report,” Jack said, stepping forward to place his datapad on the table. His arm felt oddly heavy with the movement, but he shrugged it off, conscious of the weight of Gabe’s gaze on him. Jack, skittish, focused on the offending report instead of his real reason for the visit. The words on the screen blurred, and Jack blinked to bring it back into focus, confusion rising to join the fog growing in his head. He shouldn’t be this tired.

“What about it, Commander?” Gabe said, cold politeness in his voice that would be professional if they hadn’t meant everything to each other, once. “Would you like something clarified?”

It still stung, to be tolerated as nothing more than just another colleague, a boss to be appeased. Yet it was so good to hear Gabe’s voice without the layers of technology between them. It soothed something in Jack, fed some sort of quiet need.

“I need _everything_ clarified, Gabe,” Jack said. “Have y-” He faltered, trying to pull together the right words. Was it always so cold in here? “Have you read this? It makes no sense whatsoever.”

Jack chanced a glance at Gabe to find the report had finally captured his attention. Gabe stepped closer to read the screen, and Jack beat back another unwelcome pang of _want_ as he registered the reduced distance between them. A frown settled over Gabe’s face as he skimmed through the paragraphs, his brow furrowed.

“Huh,” Gabe said. “I must have accidentally submitted a draft as the final.”

Jack watched, increasingly breathless, as Gabe made his way to his desk, triggered the screen, and began sifting through his files. His stomach turned, and Jack closed his eyes against a sudden sense of vertigo. When he opened his eyes again he was gripping the table for balance, fingers cutting through the blue holo-display. The nausea wasn’t going away, and the world seemed unbalanced, going in and out of focus.

“You okay, Jack?”

Gabe was looking over at him from his seat, one brow raised in concern as he dragged files from one window to another.

“Y-yeah,” Jack said, nodding. He coughed once, his throat dry. “Just… bad vertigo suddenly.” Jack straightened, feeling unsteady. The faint headache he had walked in with had crescendoed to a pounding throb. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, confused by the growing tightness in his chest. Something seemed to tingle beneath his skin.

“Does that usually happen?” Gabe said, distracted as he tapped at the screen.

No, it didn’t, but Jack was having trouble voicing the thought. With a shaking hand, he rubbed at his eyes, trying to piece together his fracturing thoughts. Something was wrong. Yet through the hurt and the dizziness he lost grasp of what it was and why it was mattered.

“Okay, I’ve resubmitted the report. There shouldn’t be any problems now.”

“That’s good,” Jack murmured, because it seemed good, good that there wouldn’t be any more problems. He tried to step back from the table but barely made it two steps before he was grabbing at its edge to not fall over. Why was it so hard to breathe?

“I don’t know why you came all this way,” Gabe continued, his voice coming from very far away. “If you’d just shot me a message I wo… Jack?”

No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get enough air, and Jack was on his knees now, his breaths little more than hoarse gasps. The world tipped on its side and lost all focus. Gabe was shouting something, but Jack couldn’t hear it through the roar of his heartbeat pounding in his head. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t think, his awareness reduced to nothing but the pain lancing through head, his chest, in his limbs and fingertips. He blinked and recognized the blurry panels of the ceiling spinning above him. He blinked and there was something, someone holding him as his body convulsed. It hurt. It hurt. He couldn’t breathe. His body would not respond when he tried to move, tried to stand up. And Jack was helpless as he stared up at Gabe, fighting a losing battle against his fading consciousness. He couldn’t feel the warmth of Gabe’s hands on his face, couldn’t make sense of the terror in Gabe’s eyes. The pain had numbed to a burning agony. And it only struck him that he should be scared when he recognized that Gabe’s lips were forming his name.

“Jackie? Ja… no… please… stay... Jackie?”

And Gabe never called him Jackie anymore. Not since their relationship fell apart, not since he fell out of love.

 _I’m dying._ The thought barely took shape in Jack’s mind before it disappeared with all others into the blackness.

 

-

 

Gabriel hadn’t ever felt fear like this. Not like this, never like this. Not with the enemy’s gun pointed at his head or trapped with his team behind enemy lines. Not when he lost family or a comrade or faced what he thought was certain death staring down the barrel of an omnic weapon. This was something different, soul numbing and mind freezing. Jack was limp, he wasn’t moving, he was barely breathing. He had strode into Gabriel’s office looking for trouble minutes ago _just fine_ and yet now he was slipping away in Gabriel’s arms.

“Jack? Jackie? No no no no...” Words tumbled from Gabriel’s lips without thought as he shook Jack again and again, stroking his face, begging for those blue eyes to open. “No babe. Babe please, come on. You’re not dying on me. Not like this. Jackie?”

Too late, his remembered the biotic emitter in his drawer, and he scrambled to pull it from its place, slapping it down next to Jack’s still body as he activated his comms.

“Athena! I need a med team in my office right now!”

This was a new kind of helplessness, as he sat there, frozen, waiting, praying for the biotic pack to buy Jack more time _somehow_. All of his grudges and anger against Jack suddenly seemed so petty and stupid. Jack couldn’t die here. Gabriel couldn’t lose him. He couldn’t go out and fight for a future that didn’t have Jack in it somewhere waiting, existing, smiling that devastating smile or laughing at someone’s dumb joke or other.

“Jackie, please,” he mumbled, his arms tightening around Jack’s body as he prayed to God for the first time in far too long. “Please hold on.”


	2. Chapter 2

Everything that came next happened in snapshots and fragments, as though time had somehow collapsed in on itself the moment Jack stopped breathing in his arms. Later, Gabriel would wish that he had handled everything with the expected collectedness of a seasoned commander. But the truth was that he had simply sat there on the floor, shaking, nothing left inside him but icy terror. The truth was that the medical team that swept in had to talk him down like a scared animal, just so he would relinquish his hold on Jack’s body. The truth was that he could barely form words to answer the questions they had asked, answers that were critical to saving Jack’s life.

_What happened?_

_How long has he been unconscious?_

_Sir? Sir. We need you to focus_.

_What happened here?_

Minutes, or maybe hours later, Gabriel sat slumped in the medical wing waiting room, head hung, elbows on his knees. The soul-deep exhaustion he felt was reminiscent of returning from a battlefield, and he hated the weight of it, hated knowing its cause, hated that he now knew how it felt to have Jack Morrison dying in his arms. With one hand, he rubbed at his eyes. They stung as though he’d spent the last hour crying, but he couldn’t remember any of it.

Why hadn’t he noticed sooner? What took him so long to call the medics? If Jack died… If Jack…

The sound of footsteps reached him, and Gabriel looked up to find Angela approaching from the doctors' entrance. She offered him a smile that was meant to reassure, but all Gabriel saw was the tightness in her expression and the worry in her eyes. His heart took it as a cue to begin racing anew.

“How is he?” Gabriel said, on his feet in seconds. _Is he alive?_

Desperation must have shown on his face. Angela’s professional smile faltered.

“We managed to resuscitate him,” she said. Her accent was thicker than usual, as it always was when she was particularly upset. “But he’s still in critical condition. We can’t give him proper treatment until we identify what caused all of this.”

Gabriel’s fleeting relief at hearing Jack was alive was replaced in the next moment by renewed anxiety. He was neither a doctor nor a chemist but this sounded like a problem he could solve. It sounded like something he could _do._ His mind ran through the events that led to Jack’s collapse, grasping at the pieces he could still recall. The vertigo, the respiratory distress, the convulsions.

“It was poison, wasn’t it?” he said, looking to Angela for confirmation. “Seemed like some sort of neurotoxin.”

Angela nodded once, letting out a breath. “It’s definitely possible. The security team are investigating as we speak. They’ll probably want to talk to you soon. The sooner we find out what it is, the sooner we can counter it.”

Gabriel nodded, his thoughts racing a mile a minute. Whoever did this had to be good, had to be organized, to get access to the Overwatch Commander like this. They needed to trace the source of the poisoning and find who did this and why. He’ll need to speak with Kaur and maybe call on a few conta-

“Are you okay, Gabriel?”

Gabriel’s focus snapped back toward Angela to find the doctor watching him in concern. He froze, caught out. Because no, no he wasn’t okay, not really. Someone had just tried to murder Jack and they very almost succeeded. If Jack hadn’t decided to come and harass Gabriel about that dumb report and had just stayed in his office… He’d still be there now, perhaps. Jack would have died alone, in agony. Whatever he’d had in his system had set on so swiftly he never even called out for help.

And Gabriel would have been none the wiser until it was too late.

“Yeah,” Gabriel said. “I’m fine, doc. Let me know if Jack’s condition changes.”

A muscle twitched in his arm, remembering the effort of clinging to Jack’s dead weight.

“Of course.” Angela opened her mouth to say something more, but then closed it, seemingly changing her mind. “Come talk to me if you need to, okay?”

Gabriel knew she hadn’t bought his lie, but was grateful that she chose to drop the topic, if only for the time being. He nodded, and Angela reached forward and squeezed his arm with a small smile. Then, she was gone, and Gabriel could only slump back into the chair behind him.

The image of Jack, limp and deathly pale, played behind his eyes.

 

-

 

Someone was going to die for this.

 

-

 

Overwatch’s head of internal security was Aramjeet Kaur, a hard-edged woman in her 50s with a history in Pakistani law enforcement and decades of experience managing corporate security. It had been a disconcerting moment for Gabriel when her nomination was first announced, to know that the strike team he had lead through years of hard battle was now something of a public institution, no longer requiring just raw military talent but also experts in things like finance and investigation. The woman was not popular by any measure, though it was hard to be when you were often the first and last person people saw when the most important rules were broken. His encounters with her had been limited to instances of internal investigation, when blame had to be shifted around for operations gone wrong. But to the best of his knowledge, she had served them well over the past few years.

At least until now.

“Do we know how this happened yet?” Gabriel said.

They were standing together outside Jack’s room, turned more toward the observation window than they were to each other. Gabriel had been loathe to stray too far away from Jack for reasons he didn’t want to acknowledge. For Kaur, this was as convenient a spot as any following her interrogation of the medical team.

“The evidence indicates it’s some kind of toxin,” Kaur replied, studying Gabriel with a little too much intensity. “There were no wounds on the Commander’s person indicating an external means of delivery, so we’re looking at his dietary history over the last few days to be sure.”

Gabriel was staring at Jack, who laid on the bed, surrounded by humming machines that kept him alive. The entire room was lit up with the yellow glow of biotic technology. He looked so fragile, like this. Nothing like the high and mighty Overwatch Commander with his own statues and inspirational biographies.

“The most logical place would be anything he ate recently, or anything from an untested source.” Gabriel was thinking out loud. Takeaways, restaurants, any sort of catering that didn’t come from in-house. Hell, even an ice-cream cart could have been the source of the poison.

“Usually, yes,” said Kaur.

The pause that followed lasted long enough for Gabriel to know what was about to come.

“I mean no disrespect when I ask this, Commander Reyes," Kaur continued. "But did you provide Commander Morrison with any… refreshments, during his visit to your office?”

“Am I a suspect now, Kaur?”

“It’s only due diligence, Reyes. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t ask everyone involved.”

 _Fair enough_. Gabriel could hardly protest standard policy in the face of what’s happened. “No, whatever it was got to him before he came to me.”

Kaur nodded. “Understood.”

Standing there, Gabriel felt twenty-two years old again, curled at Jack’s bedside as his body fought to survive the drugs that promised to make them stronger and better. There was the same doubt on everyone’s minds then, as to whether Jack would ever wake up again. Gabriel had been barely more than a dumb kid, with a rank he’d barely earned, pining after his friend with the bright smile, bad jokes, and the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen. His entire world had seemed like it was ending, every hope and wish and dream hinging on Jack drawing one more breath.

Now, he was almost twice the age he was back then. Gabriel had long since stopped seeing the people they were now in who they used to be, the color of Jack’s eyes be damned. So why did it somehow all feel the same?

“What’s your next avenue of action?” Gabriel said as he looked toward Kaur, knowing he was prodding. A more prideful person would consider it overstepping. But he had to know, even if it was not his responsibility to investigate the truth. Kaur knew of their history, she’d be terrible at her job if she didn’t. Gabriel could only hope she'd understand.

“Once we identify the source and the type of poison that was used, we follow the evidence,” she said, no sign of reproach in her demeanor.

“There was no warning for what happened?” Gabriel pushed, insistent, perhaps desperate for someone to blame in all this that wasn't himself. “No threats or signs?”

Kaur sighed, and for the first time, Gabriel could read exhaustion in her features.

“Commander Morrison receives no less than ten thousand death threats each week, Commander Reyes.”

Gabriel froze, Kaur’s words sounding so bizarre that for a second, he thought she meant it as joke.

“We do our best to find and stop the genuine dangers but… it seems like we were out of luck this time.” Kaur was staring at Jack through the window, and nothing in her voice suggested she was being anything less than serious. “I’ll do all I can to ensure he makes it.”

Gabriel’s gratitude was fleeting, his mind still caught on the number he had heard.

“Ten thousand?”

That would be almost one and a half thousand a day. Against Jack? His mind fought to come up with reasons. It couldn’t purely be from terrorists and extremists. Did people disagree so strongly with Overwatch’s actions? With Jack’s political statements? He knew some people saw him as a traitor for supporting omnic rights, but...

Kaur was looking at him in surprise. “Well… yes. I guess he hasn’t talked about it, has he?”

Gabriel shook his head. “No.” _Not once._

A resigned smile appeared on Kaur’s face. “Well, a public figure like him, it’s bound to happen. Jack gets paraded around as a symbol of our successes, and he’s the first person people turn their blame toward whenever anything goes wrong.”

Gabriel stared forward, eyes blank as he processed everything he had just been told. The truth of Kaur’s words wasn’t what devastated him, but the fact that he had been oblivious to all of it for almost twenty years. Overwatch had been only his to lead during their days as a covert strike team, Blackwatch’s very existence was still a secret to the public. Somewhere along the line, he’d become so used to the shroud of secrecy and the protection it offered, that he forgot all about the true risk of public scrutiny. The inconvenience of picketers and slashed funding were just the few consequences of their growing infamy that he could see.

It wasn’t news to him that everything within Overwatch had been so carefully segregated by the walls of bureaucracy that he would never be privy to everything that happened within it. But for Jack to have carried a weight like this for all these years and to have never told him…

 _They weren’t always like this_. Gabriel remembered, those early years when he still held Jack at night, when he thought he knew everything about Jack and revealed everything to him in turn. They’d unloaded frustrations around politics and people and food and the weather, built each other back up again each time they were down. Yet even then, Jack had never once mentioned the floods of hate that wanted to drown him every day.

“It’s always been like this.” Kaur said in the space of Gabriel’s silence. “You shouldn’t worry about it, Commander. We’ll make sure nothing like this ever happens again.”

But could they really? Gabriel stared at Jack’s still form, that breathed only with the support of the machines around him. Poison got to Jack this time. Who was to say that something wouldn’t slip through again? A bullet? A bomb?

The truth hung heavy between them, unspoken.

“I’m just glad you were there, Gabriel.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel breathed. “Me too.”


	3. Chapter 3

Gabriel Reyes was not a coward.

Ask anyone who’d fought by his side and they would vouch for him in a heartbeat. Reyes’ courage was renowned to the point that Jack had more than once called it straight up recklessness. You didn’t end up with shotguns as your weapons of choice if you had a problem with wading into danger.

So really, it wasn’t cowardliness that had Gabriel avoiding Jack’s room for the last three days.

It didn’t mean he hadn’t been involved, because he was still there by the observation window when Kaur sent out the message saying the poison had been identified. And he was in the same room as Angela when she admitted to the small crowd of Jack’s friends that they had to treat the poison in his system with poison of another kind, one that counteracted the original’s effects. He’d pummelled out his frustrations on a punching bag until it burst apart at the seams. Because by then everyone knew that too much time had gone by. The Jack they get back, if he came back, may no longer be the one they knew.

For three days, Jack had been the only thing he could think about. Concentrating on work became an impossibility, and anything less than an emergency was left unattended. Gabriel had been so damn comfortable in his new life, one that no longer included the man he once loved. Yet now his world had gone back to revolving around one Jack Morrison, and he couldn’t stop obsessing over how badly he needed to live in a reality where Jack still _was._ They didn’t need to be lovers, they didn’t even need to be friends, Jack just needed to be _alive._

_Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare leave me._

It was Ana who sent him the photo when Jack was finally strong enough to be taken off life support. And Gabriel would never tell anyone the truth of how he fell apart inside his office when he saw it. Or how grateful he really was to Angela for the stream of messages that kept Gabriel updated on Jack’s condition. He’d laughed in an empty room when the first video of a bleary-eyed Jack lit up his screen, courtesy of Fareeha, and he'd played it again and again and again, delighting in Jack’s look of exhausted confusion. A weak, exhausted Jack was so, so much better than no Jack at all.

Gabriel Reyes was not a coward. Anyone could tell you that.

 

-

 

Jack was somewhere very bright.

Everything was white and gold.

For a long time, he simply took in the white expanse, his mind empty.

Ceiling. His mind made the connection out of the blue. The white belonged to a painted ceiling.

He blinked, all at once aware of how badly everything ached. His eyes hurt, his throat hurt, there didn’t seem to be a single part of him that wasn’t crying out in pain. He breathed in, and out, recognizing the mechanical humming and the gold aura that hung over everything. He was in a hospital room, laying under a medical biotic field.

“Hey soldier.”

Ana’s voice sounded from next to him, and Jack’s gaze fell upon her seated form. He blinked again, his mind speeding up as it fully embraced consciousness.

“Ana.” Jack spoke and instantly regretted it as pain raked at his throat. He sounded like he’d been swallowing gravel.

“Here.” A straw nudged against his lips, and Jack took it into his mouth, relaxing as the cool water soothed his parched throat.

“What happened?” he said as Ana moved the glass away, and this time his voice came normally. There were no windows in the room, but the set-up told him that he was still in the Swiss HQ.

“What do you remember?”

Jack thought hard, but memory only returned to him in pieces. Dark eyes, looking up at him. Something bright blue like a terrain map.

“I was…" He gave up, knowing his memory was a lost cause. "Was Gabe there?”

Beside him, Ana smiled. “Yes, he was. You were poisoned, Jack. It was a good thing you were in Gabriel’s office when you collapsed. But you gave him quite the scare.”

“Huh,” Jack said. More and more was coming back to him, and he remembered the meetings that day, the cold takeaway, fragments of conversation in Gabe’s office. He thought he remembered Gabe calling him ‘Jackie’, but that couldn’t have happened, could it? Maybe that part was a dream.

“Take your time.” Ana’s voice was gentle, and she wrote something down on her datapad before putting it aside.

“I was poisoned?”

“Yes, your lunch, to be exact.”

He remembered. He’d been eating that cold fried rice right up until he decided to head for Gabe’s office.

“I-”

“Let me guess, you can’t believe your takeaway betrayed you like this?”

Jack stared at Ana, eyes wide. She read his mind.

Ana laughed quietly. “We’ve actually had this conversation a few times already. You say it every time.”

“Well,” Jack said. “It is confronting.”

He had vague memories of a very upset Ana, and glimpses of Angela, Fareeha, even Reine. Was Gabe ever there when he woke up before? All of it was so distant, like it happened to someone else in a dream.

“How long have I been out of it?”

“A little over three days,” Ana replied. “How are you feeling?”

Three days. That was… a lot of missed meetings. Ana’s concern felt like a trap, but he chanced it anyway.

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck,” Jack said, eyes growing heavy. But that description didn’t seem to capture the full extent of his agony. “And then was dragged through a cactus farm,” he added. He wasn’t sure if he could actually move, and didn’t want to try it.

“Sounds about right.” Ana said, though she made no remark as to whether Jack had already used that particular comparison. “They used a modified nerve agent, and the amount you had ingested would have, by Winston’s estimates, killed five men in half the time.”

“So I can thank-”

“You can thank your enhancements, and the fact that Gabriel still had half the mind to slap down a biotic emitter that slowed whatever it was in your system.”

“Huh,” Jack said, his voice growing quiet with fatigue. “So he really was there.”

“Like I told you, habibi, you scared the hell out of him.”

He tried to imagine how Gabe would have reacted, seeing him collapse like that, but his mind resisted the offer as soon as it took form. Instead, Jack found himself wondering if he should send a courtesy update to the old SEP scientists, to let them know that their subject was capable of withstanding five times the dose of an unknown nerve agent. They had pushed them to every physical extreme during the trial, but had stopped just short of feeding them poison – something about their precious few successes being too expensive to endanger. Perhaps they’d appreciate the update for their files. Or was it too close to tempting fate?

“I guess takeaway is banned for the foreseeable future,” Jack mumbled, his eyes slipping closed. Thoughts became jumbled, fast losing all coherency.

“You can try it, but I’m not taking over for you if you die.”

The world around him was fading, and Jack’s breathing slowly evened out.

“Sleep, habibi. I’ll be here when you wake.”

 

-

 

It had been Torbjörn of all people who had cornered Gabriel in the training room, and gave him a stern lecture with the central message of ‘you need to get your fucking shit together and go see Jack’. It didn’t make sense to Gabriel that Torby was the one trying to patch up his and Jack’s relationship. Half the time these days those two were disagreeing about omnics and their future in society, and barely two weeks ago, Gabriel had heard them arguing about the ethics behind Vishkar’s latest ‘omnic utopia’ project. Yet now, Torby had appointed himself Jack’s guardian.

Everyone sided with that golden boy, always, all the time, and Gabriel didn’t understand it.

Even though maybe, maybe Torby did have a point this time.

Standing in front of the door to Jack’s hospital room, Gabriel forced himself to face a few hard truths. He _missed_ Jack. And he wanted desperately to see for himself that Jack was okay. Jack, perhaps, needed to see him too. And it didn’t matter, not really, that all he had been able to think about over the last few days was the way Jack had looked as a corpse, and his own uselessness when standing in the face of it.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked, and opened the door.

Jack was awake, just like Angela had said, and as Gabriel walked in he found the patient sitting in bed, curiously watching the entrance. Their eyes met, and at once Gabriel felt weak with relief, watching the way Jack lit up at the sight of him. There were no obvious, immediate tells, but to Gabriel Jack may as well have been vibrating with joy.

“Hey,” Jack greeted him with a grin that did horrible things to Gabriel’s heart. “I read your report, it’s actually comprehensible now.”

Gabriel’s pleasant mood plummeted. “You’re still working?”

Now that he was closer, he could take in Jack’s appearance, and some part of him noticed that Jack was staring at him in turn. Their commander looked like death warmed over, still far too pale, with dark shadows under his eyes. He also seemed gaunter than he remembered, though Gabriel didn’t know if it was the poison that changed things, or if Jack hadn’t been eating well for a long time. But he was alive. Gabriel felt like he could breathe again for the first time since Jack collapsed. Jack was alive. He fought to scratch this version of Jack into his memory, so that it might take the place of the nightmares where Jack never woke up again.

“Well, I didn’t actually die,” Jack replied, and Gabriel finally noticed the datapad in his lap. “So someone still has to approve them all.”

“Angela okayed this?” Gabriel said with a glare, ready to confront the doctor if Jack said yes.

Jack’s gaze darted to him, a clear look of guilt on his face. “You’re not going to tell on me, are you?”

Gabriel reached out one hand, palm up, and beckoned with his fingers.

Jack stared at him, then at his hand, and rolled his eyes. Finally, he closed the datapad and placed it on Gabriel’s outstretched hand. Jack leant back into his mattress, his eyes soft as he watched Gabriel place the datapad inside the drawer of the bedside table, a mumbled “oh come on…” the only protest as Gabriel turned the key and locked the drawer for good measure.

“Who’d you lift it from?” Gabriel said, settling into the chair by Jack’s bed.

Jack was silent for a moment. “Gérard. He’s going to want it back, you know.”

“He can come to me if he wants the key.”

It rubbed Gabriel wrong that Jack was taking his brush with death so cavalierly. As though Gabriel hadn’t lost years of his life that one afternoon when he thought Jack was dying, no, was dead in his arms. The cold burn of terror was still fresh in his mind, and he had a feeling it was not about to go away anytime soon. All he had to do was close his eyes and he’d still see it, the blue in Jack’s lips, the fading light in his eyes.

“You know… I’m sort of glad this happened,” Jack mumbled, staring into the corner of the room.

Gabriel’s anger flared. “The fuck are you talking about, Morrison?”

“I mean... I just spent three whole days in bed,” he said, a hint of laughter in his voice. “I didn’t have to go to a single meeting. I think I got more sleep in the last 72 hours than I’ve had in the entire last week.”

Gabriel, poised on the edge of indignant rage, faltered at the wistfulness in Jack’s voice.

“And look at you, my Florence Nightingale.” The corner of Jack’s lips flicked up, his gaze shifted to Gabriel and there was faint mischief sparkling in his eyes. “I don’t think we’ve spent this much time alone together in months.”

The words hit Gabriel like a splash of icy water. Months. It was more like years. He’d seen more of Jack – the real Jack, not on a display or a screen – over the last few days than he had in… he couldn’t even remember.

“You almost died, Jack.” _You did die, for a while._

“I know,” Jack said. There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. “A lot of people have been saying that.”

“You’re less upset about it than I’d expect.”

Jack smiled at that, but there was a hollowness behind it that gave Gabriel chills.

“What’s the use?” Jack said. “Everyone else has gone through so much because of what happened. It’d only make them feel worse.”

“Right, it’s about making others feel better.” This was the Jack that he hated, that self-righteous, sanctimonious goodness, the savior complex, the compulsive need to put others first so he could feel good about himself. All of it was fucking bullshit and Gabriel knew it.

Jack shrugged, all innocent country charm. “That’s my job, Gabe.”

Now was not the time for anger, and Gabriel forced down the bitter frustration, and the urge to remind Jack again of how manipulative he was. He wanted to see Jack behave like a normal person for even just once, someone with his own feelings, not defined by what he thought others needed to see.

“You know, I honestly can’t tell if you buy your own bullshit, Morrison.”

Jack sighed. “Do we have to do this now, Gabe?”

 _Shit_. He wasn’t supposed to lash out. “You can take a break from being the commander once in a while, you know. I know you think you know what’s best for everyone, but actually asking their opinion once in a while won’t hurt.”

“You know… I think both of us could use that advice.”

There was a coldness in Jack’s eyes now, and Gabriel was cursing himself. Was there a way to convince Jack he didn’t have to needlessly sacrifice himself that wouldn't make Gabriel sound like an asshole?

“Okay, all of this is coming out wrong.” Gabriel said with a jagged sigh. This is exactly what he had wanted to avoid when he first entered the room. “I just… I wanted to say I’m glad you’re okay.”

For a moment, Jack was silent, and Gabriel was far too self-conscious to face Jack and see the reason why. “Thanks, Gabe.”

Gabriel pushed on, before he completely lost his nerve. “And you don’t have to pretend that everything is okay just because you think it’d upset people you care about.”

“I’ll… keep that in mind.”

This was more than enough for the day. For the week. “Okay, I’ll… let you rest.”

Gabriel stood up to leave, unable to look at Jack. He only made it half way to the door.

“Thank you, by the way.” Jack’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

Feeling lost, Gabriel turned around. “For what?”

“For being there,” Jack said, his lips twitching with a small smile. “They tell me you’re the one who called the medics.”

“Of course. What else would I have done?”

Jack’s blue eyes widened, before he let out a huff of laughter, his gaze darting away. “Well… it’s nice to know that you don’t actually want me dead.”

Gabriel stared.

The first thing he felt was outrage, because Jack’s words were a kind of cruelty that he knew he did not deserve. But then, he looked at Jack, and saw the tightness around his eyes, saw something that spoke of shame, spoke of fear. Like Jack, his idiot Jackie, for however long, had actually doubted what he meant to Gabriel. An irrational fury took over him then. Because how dare Jack not know? They may have fought, they may have argued, they may have cursed at each other and said terrible things. But he should _know_.

 _Fuck._ Gabriel thought, his anger evaporating. _He doesn’t know._

“Look, I know I can be a fucking asshole when I’m mad,” Gabriel said, hating himself more with every word, “but you can’t take any of my bullshit seriously, got it?”

“Yeah, I know,” Jack smiled. That blankness was back in his eyes again, but Gabriel didn’t have the strength to face it any more.

“Okay. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“See you.”

Gabriel fled.


	4. Chapter 4

If Gabriel could admit one thing he resented Jack for, it was his blind dedication to doing what he believed was the right thing. Jack never understood how his kindness was often also his greatest cruelty. Unwanted, unneeded, unasked for. Impossible to repay. Best intentions meant nothing when it was leading them all to hell. He could always twist Gabriel’s pragmatism into some kind of selfishness, his desire to do the practical thing a character flaw. In Jack’s eyes, Gabriel was a psychopath, too cynical, too eager to doubt.

What Gabriel couldn’t say, was that Jack was the one who reminded him of the good in the world. Jack was a reminder of hope and its importance, and the knowledge that fear was often the only thing that stood in the way of understanding. Jack always saw a way to compromise, a middle ground, a way to hold onto who they were despite everything that tried to tear them down. Jack made him want to do the right thing, to keep fighting even when the odds were terrible, and offer kindness when a lifetime of lessons screamed for him to retreat, to doubt. Jack saw so much good in people, and Gabriel wanted to live up to it, to be the type of person that deserved Jack’s trust.

And he hated, hated that he couldn’t.

 

-

 

Within a week, Jack was released from medical. Within two weeks, he was back to his old schedule of measuring risks, pushing numbers, and flattering politicians.

Jack felt like he was supposed to have learned something from his near-death experience, but aside from a newly gained aversion to rice, he still felt like the same person he was before, if just a little more frayed at the edges. The drug, mercifully, hadn’t left him with any debilitating side-effects. There were the occasional muscle tremors, some dizziness, and sometimes his hands shook when he didn’t want them too, but with time, even those symptoms diminished little by little.

 _Family emergency_ was the excuse they used to cover up the truth about what happened to the public, and _internal emergency_ the excuse he used on those who saw through the first. It was no use causing a panic, even if the world might have used the reminder that their ‘heroes’ were not infallible.

The preliminary investigation report from Kaur landed on Jack’s desk in week three, and contained a list of likely suspects alongside her strongest theory about what happened. The poison had not been introduced when the food was cooked, as originally thought. Instead, someone had opened the cooling container that should have been under constant supervision of his aide, and ‘drizzled’ the compound over it. It was evidenced by the differing concentrations of poison in the upper and lower layer food samples, sorption affected by temperature and other factors Jack lacked the technical knowledge to comprehend. They’d looked into people with the means yet found few with a motive, and in turn, those with a motive all seemed to be missing the means. The aide had been thoroughly harassed and investigated and eventually reassigned for their negligence.

In the end, they lacked sufficient evidence to point to any specific group or individual.

Jack only saw Gabe over work meetings and wireless connections again.

Sometimes, Jack thought about all the things he could never tell anyone. Like how a part of him felt disappointed when he had opened his eyes to find himself still breathing. And how ashamed he was when he had stared into everyone's worried faces and realised how important it was to them for him to keep going. How the thought of everyone depending on him was the only thing that got him up every morning. How he didn't really know how to be anyone but the commander anymore. But none of it mattered as long as he did _keep going_. Everyone was counting on him, after all. There were people to save.

Life went on.

 

-

 

If Jack could admit one thing he resented Gabe for, it was his relentless skepticism. In his eyes, everyone was hiding something, working some sort of ulterior motive whether or not they knew it themselves. He never understood the importance of vulnerability, of ceding ground, of the benefit of doubt, and how cruel it was to always assume the worst of those around him. He could always twist Jack’s best intentions into some kind of selfishness, his desire to do the right thing a character flaw. In Gabe’s eyes, Jack was a boy-scout, too perfect, too eager to please.

What Jack couldn’t say, was that Gabe was the one who kept him grounded in reality. Gabe reminded him to stay vigilant, to remember that people’s words rarely matched their intentions no matter how much Jack wanted to believe them. Gabe took everything so seriously, considered all the angles, came up with contingencies no matter how unpleasant the hypothetical situation. Gabe made him want to be the kind of leader he was, that kind of benevolent force in people's lives. Gabe saw straight through the darkness of those around him and yet still fought and killed and bled for them all. And Jack wanted to live up to it, to be someone who deserved Gabe’s sacrifice.

But Jack didn’t really know how to be that person.

 

-

 

Around quarter past five on a Friday afternoon, Gabriel Reyes, Blackwatch Commander, knocked on the door of his boss.

He stared at the metal panels as the seconds ticked by, listening to the sound of someone moving inside. Then, the door opened with a hiss, revealing Jack standing in the doorway, looking stunned by his presence. Jack looked better now, weeks into recovery, the pink was back in his cheeks, and the shadows were mostly gone too. Gabriel let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Are those glasses?” Gabriel said, staring at the thick black frames perched on Jack’s nose. 

“Hm?” Jack blinked, and then adjusted them. “Yeah, the drug messed up my eyesight a little, so I’m wearing them for now.”

No one had mentioned this to Gabriel, and a frown settled over his face as he followed Jack into his office. He wasn’t sure who was to blame, himself for his deliberate avoidance of all things Jack Morrison or everyone else who knew but never informed him. “But your vision’s improving?”

“I think so?” Jack said in a tone that said _I don’t really know_. “We’ll see in another few weeks.”

“Is it bad?” The questions were tumbling out of Gabriel’s mouth and he couldn't seem to stop them.

Jack leaned against his desk. “I don’t qualify as a fighter pilot anymore, but I can go without them if I want to.”

Gabe nodded, temporarily mollified as he looked around Jack’s office. The space was terrifyingly neat, but it was not the kind of organized that came from a considerate inhabitant. It was a sterile kind of arrangement, one born of an owner who was never around long enough to leave behind a meaningful mess. The only thing that gave it life was the stylus laying askew on the desk, and the half-finished mug of tea beside it.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Jack said, hesitating when he noticed Gabriel’s study of the room. “It’s not usually this neat. The cleaners have been through since I was… away.”

It had been more than three weeks since Jack returned, but neither of them raised the issue. “Kaur didn’t investigate? I was expecting this to be considered a crime scene.”

“It was my food that was compromised, not my office, Gabe.”

“Was that confirmed in the report?”

“You want to read it?”

Gabriel had half a mind to say yes, but there were things that stopped being his business the moment they decided to cut everything off, and this was one of them. “It’s fine, I trust her judgement.”

“So…” There was genuine confusion in Jack’s voice now. “What I can I do you for, Commander?”   

“I need you to authorize a few upcoming missions,” Gabriel said, forcing himself to look at Jack and pretend that this wasn’t something usually done through electronic channels. “I have something cooking in southern Croatia.”

“Alright,” Jack said, not looking the slightest bit less confused. “Pitch me.”

“The new organization that’s cropped up recently, that one they haven’t found a name for?”

“The one Kransky’s keeping an eye on?”

“There’s new evidence linking them to chemical weapons and anti-establishment extremism.”

“You trust your intel on this?”

“Yes.” Gabriel nodded, taking the chance to look over Jack properly his time. He _had_ lost weight. His already ridiculous cheekbones were more prominent than before, and the angles of his face, his jaw, stood even sharper. Even his tailored uniform sat more loosely on his broad shoulders. Protectiveness surged inside Gabriel, mixing with that familiar, lingering lust.

“I think it’s worth investigating off the official books,” Gabriel continued. “The word is they’re planning something big, and soon. At the very least we need confirmation and details on what they’re plotting, at best, we stop whatever it is before it can happen.”

They both saw the same reports from their intelligence division, even if they often had differing opinions on what to do about each potential threat. The biggest arguments between them often happened as a result. But when it mattered, Jack was inclined to let Gabriel and Blackwatch do their job. Gabriel often wondered why it was Jack had given Blackwatch the level of autonomy that they currently held. Was it some sort of misguided attempt to assuage his own guilt over accepting that promotion? Or did he simply trust Gabriel to always do the right thing, the same way he would?

Jack considered him for a moment, then nodded once. “Alright, I’ll trust you on this. Send me the details and you can pick a team.”

That was the official business done with. Gabriel’s mouth opened to say his goodbyes, yet no words came out. He should be running for the hills by now. But there was something about Jack’s presence, physical, tangible, that threatened to entrap him each time they occupied the same space. This was why he had been so determined to avoid him, so willing to pick fights. If he stayed too long there was no telling what stupid things he’d say or do. Gabriel’s gaze drifted, trying to stall for maybe just a moment longer before he lost Jack to routine once more.

There was a red box of military rations in a corner of the room. Gabriel’s brow furrowed.

“Why do you have MREs in your office?”

“Uh…” Jack’s eyes went a little wild, and a terrible suspicion came over Gabriel that only strengthened over Jack's awkward response.

“Have you been…” It was hurting Gabriel just to say it, “ _eating them_?”

“Okay… look.”

“For fuck’s sake, Morrison!”

“No! You are not going to get mad at me over this too.”

“Who else knows?!” There was an edge of hysteria in Gabriel’s voice now.

“I… It doesn’t matter. Look, they’re securely sourced, nutritionally balanced, and they’re free! It’s a perfectly valid meal option.”

“Free?” There were only a handful of explanations for that descriptor. Gabriel knew for a fact that Jack was not a thief, and the way Jack froze only pointed to the worst possibility. “Have you been eating _expired_ rations?”

“I… It’s fine, Gabe. The dates are just recommendations. Otherwise it’d just go to waste!”

Gabriel was speechless with all the things he wanted to say to Jack, and just about all of them were different ways of phrasing _what the fuck is wrong with you_? He squeezed his eyes shut, one hand rising to rub at his temples.

“Look, you’ve been a shitty eater for as long as I’ve known you, but MREs, Jack?”

“It’s just… our equivalent of a microwave meal, really. I don’t know why you’re so upset.”

“You don’t…” Gabriel forced himself to drop the topic before it took him where he didn’t want to go. “Actual microwave meals, are microwave meals. MREs are shitty last resorts we use for _battle situations_.” He couldn’t believe the way Jack was speaking, as though Gabriel hadn’t been there all the times he made fun of how terrible they tasted.

“Really, Gabe, it’s fine,” Jack mumbled. He just looked upset now, caught between guilt and shame.

This wasn't even what Gabriel had wanted, and realization hit him with a terrible pang. “Look… My sister sent me a new recipe I’ve been meaning to try.” Gabriel didn’t even know what he was saying, the only thing he was certain of was that somehow, he had to put a stop to this. No one else was doing it. So this was his responsibility now. 

“Hm?” Jack’s eyes went wide, the blue of his irises at levels of maximum devastation as confusion settled across his face.

Gabriel forced himself to say the next words before he chickened out. “I… I could make it for you. If you want to try it...” He felt like dying. “It doesn’t matter where you approve those reports, right?”

“You want to cook for me?” Jack’s voice was that of a child, and Gabriel didn’t know how to describe the feeling that echoed through his heart.

“Yeah,” Gabe said, his brain finally registering what he’d just offered. “Sure. I’ll feed you.”

There should be laws against the way Jack looked when he lit up with joy and hope. Gabriel’s heart skipped a few beats at the sight of it, abruptly remembering why he used to call him his _sunshine_. He’d never known how much he’d missed it. God, if Jack knew the effect he still had on him…

“As long as it’s not Chinese,” Jack said, and Gabriel struggled not to return that sunny smile.

He chuckled. “No, but I could ask Liao for some family recipes.”

That earned him a scowl, but it was gone as fast as it came, so powerful was Jack’s delight. “I wouldn’t mind it, actually, their pork dumplings are amazing.”

“I’m not offering to be your personal chef,” Gabriel said, frowning, yet there was no bite in his words.

“I know. It’s just… been a while since you’ve offered me free food.”

“I also didn’t say it’d be free.”

“Then I’ll find some way to repay you.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll be expecting it.”

“So it’s a date.”

Jack’s tone was too light, too careful, and Gabriel knew what he wanted, was surprised when a part of him answered with that same sentiment, so warm and familiar in that it had never left. All of it was too much, too full of promise, it drew a picture of something Gabriel didn’t even know if he still had in him to deliver. They’d tread this path before, and it had ended in so much disaster.

He opened his mouth, ready to correct Jack.

But his heart was not in it.

Gabriel let out a breath, and answered with a smile. “It’s a date.”

The way Jack looked made Gabriel want to kiss him right there.


	5. coda

****

Everything at Overwatch was carefully segregated by the walls of bureaucracy, even its own commander could never be privy to everything that happened within it.

The truth was, Gabriel had secrets of his own.

The coast of Southern Croatia was a delight almost any time of the year. It didn’t have the renown behind the French Riviera or the Amalfi Coast, but the Mediterranean sparkled just as prettily under the sun as it did anywhere else. Along the coast were countless small towns and villages, many of which were home to generations of people who grew up on the land.

One such home belonged to the ailing mother of Dr. Rikard Novak, senior researcher at the Croatian Academy of Science and Arts. Novak’s claim to fame lay in one thing in particular – his expertise in organic chemistry was almost unparalleled within his field. He was a short man with sharp blue eyes, and watched the world from behind thick glasses that both hid and announced his intellect to anyone paying attention. Rikard Novak was a deeply clever man, just not clever enough. And now it left him covered in blood and bruises on the floor of his mother’s house, completely at another man’s mercy as he stared down the barrel of a loaded gun.

“Did you think you were going to get away with this, Dr. Novak?” Gabriel said, genuine curiousity in his words.

“He only got what was coming,” said Novak. There was neither fear nor regret in his voice, as though he was simply stating a fact. “I just wish I could have finished the job.” The man barely flinched in the face of his imminent death, and Gabriel felt a stirring of respect inside him, buried under all of his disgust and fury.

Novak used to have a little brother, beloved and adored.

“I suppose now you’re getting what was coming to you,” Gabriel said, teeth bared in a cruel smile. This was his favorite part, the anticipation of the kill, knowing that he was the only thing that controlled the life and death of another. And revenge would taste so, so sweet, almost as good as Jack.

The little brother had idolized a certain someone, blond haired and blue eyed, the greatest hero the world had ever known.

“I only did what had to be done,” fury danced behind Novak’s eyes. “All of you are monsters, every single one of you.”

And the little brother had died, chasing the dream that his hero inspired, an unfortunate casualty of an Overwatch training exercise gone wrong.

Novak wasn’t wrong, because there was something fundamentally unsettling about how his Jack, and Overwatch, was inspiring a new generation to sign their lives away to conflict. And perhaps Novak knew, just like many others, the type of dark deeds that these so-called heroes had done and gotten away with. Perhaps he saw through the hypocrisy of an institution that used murder and violence in the name of upholding peace and order, that acted as a tool the rich and powerful used to silence the cries of those rebelling against a cruel system.

In the end it felt like such a petty, predictable thing, how anger and grief could so thoroughly transform a scientist who had dedicated his life to turning poisons into life-saving cures. It had not been easy to pinpoint the source of the poison in Jack’s system, but something like that could only have so many origins. Dr. Rikard Novak had not been in the building when the Overwatch commander’s food was compromised, but his colleague’s name had been on the registers of the Mathematics conference happening next door. It only took one phone call to learn of the kindness of the good doctor, who had volunteered to attend in the place of his sick colleague.

“You will go to hell for everything you've done.” It was one of the least original condemnations that Gabriel had ever heard.

“Then I’ll see you there.” Gabriel smiled, and pulled the trigger.

Gabriel Reyes had never imagined the things he could get away with when he signed on as Blackwatch Commander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has been mostly centered around Gabriel and his guilt, but I hope it did become apparent in between the lines that Jack himself is very far from perfect and blameless. They say your greatest strength is also your greatest weakness, and I guess this world is one where the traits that made Jack and Gabriel complement each other so perfectly eventually became the differences that pushed them apart. The same way that the thing which once inspired you eventually became a reminder of everything you never lived up to. In my headcanons, Jack and Gabriel’s respective positions forced them to increasingly cultivate a side of themselves that they, in truth, needed less of... and we all know how it ended.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed the fic, please let me know your thoughts below! Comments are soul food for the writer. And feel free to come suffer in reaper76 hell with me @ [my tumblr](http://ingu.tumblr.com).
> 
> Title borrowed from The Civil Wars' [Poison & Wine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fNlxKH9Jtmc), a pretty song that fits the mood.


End file.
